Breakaway
by Miss Hermione Holmes
Summary: Life is good for Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. Harry and Ron are Auror trainees, Hermione works at the Ministry, and Ginny is a professional Quidditch player. Join them as they fly, fight, succeed, fail, and break away from the lives they've known to begin anew together. (Discontinued - for now.)
1. Witch Weekly

**Ministry of Magic**

 **Auror Office**

 **Thursday, December 21, 2000**

 **1:14 P.M.**

"I just got an owl from Ginny," Harry told Ron. "And she sent this." He handed his brother-in-law the latest copy of _Witch Weekly._

"Wait, are you talking about the same Ginny I'm thinking about?" asked Ron, looking cautiously at the magazine. "Is this some sort of prank?"

Harry looked at him oddly, then realized what he meant. "Oh! The only reason she reads _Witch Weekly_ is to see if anyone's published any articles about our family. Do you remember that 'Family Security' meeting your mum called together after Fleur announced her pregnancy?"

"That was such a waste of time," said Ron. "I got the Make-Sure-There-Are-No-Animagi-Around-Listening-To-You position."

Harry grinned, then said, "Yeah, well, Ginny was assigned to read publications. The _Daily Prophet_ , or _Witch Weekly_. . .all of them. And as she was looking through them, she came across an interesting article."

Ron face-palmed. "Let me guess: was it about me?"

He shook his head. "Just look at page forty-nine."

"Oh, no. . .forty-nine is never a good number," muttered Ron as he flipped to it. "The '50 Hottest Wizards of 2000,'" he read. "Hmmm. . .oh, look, you're number three!"

"Sadly, yes," said Harry, turning red in the face. "Go to number eleven. It's on page sixty-one."

"Every person gets their own page?" said Ron, turning to page sixty-one. "Oh my God, it's me! How the hell am _I_ number eleven in the whole wizarding world?"

Harry laughed. "Now go to page one hundred," he said. "It's the '50 Hottest Witches of 2000.'"

"You're kidding me. Is this _Witch Weekly's_ annual '100 Sexiest People of the Year' edition?" asked Ron, finally figuring out that he could flick his wand and have it turn to the page he wanted it to. "Let me guess. . .Ginny's - I guessed right, Ginny's number one. Ooh, what's her biography say?"

"Don't read that!" said Harry, reaching across his desk to grab the magazine from Ron.

Ron easily dodged Harry's attempt and read, "'You may be asking, "Why is a redhead number one?" And we would wonder the same thing if -' Hey! That's insulting!"

"Just finish it," said Harry tiredly.

"'- if we hadn't seen Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter in the locker room.' Oh my God, only you are supposed to see Ginny in locker room attire. Why the hell do they go in there?" demanded Ron.

"My God, Ron," said Harry. "Why do you have to bring that up? And to answer your question, it's for press coverage. Their reasoning is that it's the only time they can get one-on-one interviews."

"Can't they do that when she's not half-naked?" he said.

Harry put his head in his hands. "You're making this really awkward. If you're going to read it, just go ahead and get it over with."

"Alright, alright," Ron agreed. "'. . .in the locker room. She stuns us all with her -' You know, I don't even want to know how she supposedly stuns us. If I don't know this stuff about my sister's body, how does _Witch Weekly_ know about it?" He dropped the magazine back down on the desk, but before Harry could take it back, he said, "Wait, does that really say what I think it says?"

"I don't know, what do you think it says?" asked Harry.

Ron picked it back up and read the last line of the article. "Oh my God! 'We can probably expect this Quidditch star and her husband, the Chosen One, to give us some nice, pretty Potter babies soon.'"

"WHAT?!" Harry gasped, standing up. "I didn't see that one."

"Clearly," Ron snorted. "Did Ginny see it?"

"I dunno," said Harry. "Okay, before I send her an owl, go to page one hundred fifteen."

"How did you memorize all these page numbers?" Ron asked.

Harry laughed. "Ginny wrote them down for me, they're right here," he explained, holding up a sticky note.

Ron rolled his eyes, but gasped when he saw what was on page one hundred fifteen. _"Hermione?!"_

"Hermione," Harry confirmed.

"What the -?"

"You two really ought to actually do your work, instead of - oh my God, is that me?!"

Harry and Ron both looked up to see who had entered the office. Hermione grabbed the magazine from her husband's hands and said, "What _is_ this?"

"It's _Witch Weekly,_ Harry was showing it to me," said Ron.

"Well, _obviously_ it's _Witch Weekly_ , I recognize the font," said Hermione. "But why am _I_ in it?"

"Ron's in it, too," Harry told her.

"And Harry," Ron added. "And Ginny."

Scanning the page with a picture of herself on it, Hermione said, "I'm number fourteen on what list?"

"Ginny's number one," said Ron quickly.

"What list is it?" she insisted.

"Page one hundred," said Harry. "Just go to page one hundred."

"No, don't -" Ron began.

Hermione flicked her wand to page one hundred. "'50 Hottest Witches of 2000'? This is _so_ stupid. _I'm_ number fourteen. But apparently someone here's married to the number one hottest witch of 2000."

Harry turned red. "Yeah, that might be me. . . ."

"And. . .whoa, Harry, they've got high expectations for you two, because they're going to be getting 'some nice, pretty Potter babies soon,'" she teased. "Where did you even get this?"

"Ginny sent it," Ron answered.

"Potter, Weasley," said the Auror secretary, coming into the office. "We've had a breakthrough in the case you two have been helping on."

"Oh," said Hermione. "I'll see you two tonight, then?"

They nodded as she left. Courtney Gordon, the secretary, dropped a manila folder on Harry's desk. "Minister Shacklebolt is sending Williams and Rodgers out on a mission to find the fugitive. But first you two have to decipher these runes."

"Code?" Harry repeated. "No, no, no. We don't know Ancient Runes, that's not a class we took."

Courtney frowned. "You two are the only ones eligible to translate them. Unless you can find another Auror who can, then I'm afraid -"

"My wife can," Ron interrupted. "She knows them."

"You'll have to get the Minister's permission first. She's not an Auror trainee or an Auror, so she has no business -" Courtney began.

"Hey, Ron, how about you set everything up? I'll go ask Kingsley," said Harry quickly.

"Will do," Ron agreed.

"Potter, Minister Shacklebolt is in a meeting right now -"

"Then I'll wait," Harry said, leaving the room. Courtney rolled her eyes and Ron bit his lip to keep from laughing at her annoyance. Needless to say, they weren't too fond of the secretary.

* * *

 **Holyhead, Wales**

 **Dynasty Training Center**

 **1:42 P.M.**

Ginny stepped out of the fireplace in the Dynasty Training Center's lobby. "Twelve minutes late, Weasley," said Bobbi the receptionist from behind the desk.

"It's Potter, Bobbi. And I know," said Ginny quickly, grabbing the clipboard on the counter and scribbling down her name, the date, and the time.

"Try to put some more clothes on next time," Bobbi advised. "Gwenog'll be upset 'f ya don't. 'Specially after that article in _Witch Weekly_."

Ginny looked down at her Harpies t-shirt, leggings, and tennis shoes. "Do you really think I asked them to publish that?"

"Don't know. Still haven't made up my mind 'bout you," Bobbi stated, handing Ginny her practice robes and shoes. "The other gals are in the workout room upstairs. Gwenog wanted to see ya. But I wouldn't go see her in what you're wearing. She'd get suspicious."

"For goodness's sake, I was just doing errands today. Do you think I'm going to fancy up for that?" said Ginny impatiently.

"Last few times ya came ya were wearing dresses. Pretty short ones at that," said Bobbi.

As she ran down the hall, Ginny called, "Yeah, well, I had lunch dates, which I don't just wear leggings and a tee for. I, at least, try to look nice for my husband."

"Don't know, he'd probably like ya in what you're wearin' now," Bobbi yelled back.

Ginny was glad she was out of sight so that Bobbi couldn't see how madly she was blushing. She waved her wand at the door of the locker room (it only opened at the swish of certain wands, such as team members' and authorities') and sprinted to her locker.

"Weasley!"

"It's Potter, Gwenog," Ginny corrected, not bothering to turn around to face the Captain as she flung her shoes off.

Gwenog rolled her eyes. "Potter. Same thing. Anyway, _Potter,_ we saw that you were the star of _Witch Weekly_."

"Oh, yeah," said Ginny. "I saw that, too."

"When did you have the interview?" she asked. "You have to have our permission before you have any conferences."

Ginny frowned. "What interview? I never had an interview."

"Then why do they quote you?" said Gwenog.

"Quote me?" Ginny repeated. "When did they quote me?"

Gwenog looked down at the magazine and read, "'I work out every morning -'"

"I've never, ever said that," Ginny promised. "Because that would be a lie. I work out twice a week, one time with the team and one time by myself as part of the personal conditioning plan you gave us."

"So they're lying?"

"Mm-hmm. Do I _look_ like I work out every day?"

"According to _Witch Weekly_ you do," Gwenog pointed out.

"Well, I don't. Don't believe everything you read," she said. "I would have thought that you, of all people, would have learned that over the past few years. All that press."

"I don't read the newspaper," said Gwenog defiantly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Says the woman who just freaked out over a fake quote in a magazine."

"Newspapers and magazines are two different things," she pointed out matter-of-factly. "Anyway, why were you - are you - late?"

Ginny sighed. "Can you, at least, wait until I'm changed?"

"Nope," Gwenog said.

"Fine. I was running errands. Last minute Christmas shopping and such," Ginny admitted. "My husband's pretty hard to shop for."

"Oh, so he wasn't around?" asked Gwenog.

"No. . . ." Ginny said slowly, looking cautiously at the Captain.

Gwenog raised her eyebrows innocently. "I was just wondering. Your attire says otherwise."

"This again," she sighed. "Really, I was just shopping. I haven't seen Harry since this morning. I don't know why everyone's so suggestive about what I'm wearing. Can a woman not be comfortable?"

"Sweetie, you're nineteen," said Gwenog. "Unlike _Witch Weekly,_ I don't want 'some nice, pretty Potter babies soon.' I want a healthy Chaser."

"That's not what I was saying," Ginny muttered. "Just your luck. You're not going to get any, er, 'Potter babies' soon." She stood, finally done changing into her practice uniform.

"I sure hope not," said Gwenog. "C'mon, Weas -"

"Potter."

"- Potter. We've got a nice round of conditioning ahead of us," Gwenog said.

Ginny sighed. "Fun."

* * *

 **2:06 P.M.**

"Let's go, ladies!" Gwenog yelled. "Our first match's on February the Tenth, and I want you girls in shape."

"Gwen, we're playing the Cannons," said Grey Shafiq, the Harpies' starting Seeker. "I'd say they're an easy win even if we're so fat we can barely balance on our broomsticks."

Gwenog sighed. "Shafiq, you're completely defeating the purpose of these exercises."

"I'm siding with Grey," Ginny said, wincing as she lifted another weight.

"But then you won't be the Sexiest Witch in the World anymore, Potter," teased Gemma Stoneson, a starting Chaser. "And wouldn't that be tragic?"

Gwenog ignored Gemma's jab and Ginny's profound blushing, instead yelling, "Ladies! I want you all lifting twenty-fives in both arms by the end of this session!"

Groans of pain and annoyance filled the room. "Twenty-fives?" Delilah Gerrup, another starting Chaser, repeated. "No way am I lifting twenty-fives."

"Yeah, Gwenog. We've got magic to go that for us," pitched in Elizabeth Geffrey, Gwenog's fellow Beater.

The Captain sighed. "Would you all just do what I ask?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Grey joked.

"Alright, girls. Enough fun," said Gwenog seriously to the roomful of women. "I want your husbands and boyfriends or whoever you're hooked with to remark on how in-shape you are at Christmas." As she walked by Ginny, she whispered, "The Hottest Witch of 2000 especially."

"Thanks," sighed Ginny. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

 **Hi again! This is my first multi-chapter story to ever be published. I've got the whole thing planned out, it's just a matter of actually writing it. The second chapter should be up soon, so stay tuned. Thanks so much for reading and please let me know how "Breakaway" is so far!  
**

 **~Sunny**


	2. Christmas

**Godric's Hollow**

 **Godric's Hollow Cemetery**

 **Sunday, December 24, 2000**

 **8:32 P.M.**

Harry sat down next to his parents' gravestone, tracing their names with his finger. _James Potter. Lily Potter._

 _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

"What doing Harry?" Teddy, who held Ginny's hand, asked in a carrying whisper.

"Ssh," Ginny whispered, putting a finger to her lips. When Teddy nodded and copied her motion she answered, "You know how your mummy and daddy aren't here?"

"Yeah."

"His mummy and daddy aren't here, either," Ginny explained. "They went away when he was little, just like how yours did, too."

"Do his mummy and daddy like my mummy and daddy?" Teddy said hopefully.

Ginny smiled. "Mm-hmm. They were - are - good friends."

"Do they go 'way tuh. . .tuhgedder?"

"No," she said after a moment. "Harry's mummy and daddy went away a long time before yours did."

"Do Harry need huggy?"

"Yeah," said Harry quietly.

Teddy let go of Ginny's hand and ran as fast as he could on his little toddler legs to his godfather, wrapping his arms as tight as he could around Harry's neck. Ginny followed and sat down next to her husband, leaning against his shoulder.

For a while, the three of them sat there quietly. Then Ginny suggested, "How about we go to Remus and Tonks's graves? So Teddy can. . . ."

"Sure," Harry agreed. "But we should go home first, then we can Floo to Hogwarts. You can visit Fred's, too."

Ginny nodded and stood up. Teddy held out his arms for her to pick him up which she did so Harry could stand. The three of them walked back to their home in Godric's Hollow, the same one Harry had lived in as a baby.

* * *

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

 **Headmistress's Office**

 **Sunday, December 24, 2000**

 **8:59 P.M.**

Professor Minerva McGonagall was quite startled when Harry Potter walked out of her fireplace, closely followed by his wife and godson. "Potter?" she said. "Has something happened at the Ministry?"

"Oh, no," said Harry quickly. "Ginny, Teddy, and I are going to visit the cemetery."

"Sorry for bothering you," Ginny added.

McGonagall shook her head. "You didn't bother me, I was just surprised."

Teddy looked around the room at all of the portraits of people pretending to be asleep. "Who they?" he whispered to Ginny, pointing up.

"They're the people who were in charge of this school before they went away," said Ginny. "See Professor McGonagall? She's in charge of Hogwarts right now."

"Hogwarts?" Teddy repeated.

"Er. . .we'll tell you about Hogwarts later," said Harry quickly. "Let's go. Sorry, Professor."

"You all are fine," she assured them as they left.

They quietly hurried down the corridor and out through the doors. "Where are we going?" Teddy asked as they walked down the stone path leading to the cemetery.

"You know how I just went to see my parents?" Harry said. Teddy nodded. "We're going to see _your_ mummy and daddy and Ginny's going to see her brother."

"But. . .Uncle Ron not gone," said Teddy, confused.

"No," said Harry. "Remember George? One of Ginny's other brothers?"

"Yeah," said Teddy. "He gone?"

Harry shook his head. "No. But he used to have a twin brother named Fred who went away at the same time your mummy and daddy went away," he said.

"Oh."

Ginny opened the short gate around the cemetery with a creak and let Harry, who held Teddy, pass her before she closed it back. "I'm going to go," Ginny mouthed to Harry, heading in the direction of Fred's grave.

Harry had been to the large cemetery many times and knew exactly where the Lupins rested.

In loving memory of

REMUS JOHN LUPIN

born 10 March 1960

died 2 May 1998

and his wife,

NYMPHADORA EDEN TONKS LUPIN

born 11 November 1972

died 2 May 1998

 _There is no greater warrior than a parent protecting their child._

"See, Teddy?" said Harry softly. "Here are your parents."

Teddy squinted. "What do they look like? I can't see them."

"You can't see them," Harry said gently. _Unless you have the Resurrection Stone,_ said a little voice in his head, but he brushed that thought away. "But do you want to tell them something?"

"Where do I tell them?" asked Teddy.

"Right here," Harry answered. "Just say what you want to say."

"Do you talk to your mummy and daddy, too?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I've told them about you."

"Really?" said Teddy. "I'm gonna tell my mummy and daddy about _you!"_

Holding back a small laugh, Harry nodded. "You can do that."

"Okay," Teddy said. He took a deep breath and said, "Hi, Mummy. Hi, Daddy." He glanced at Harry, who gave him an encouraging nod. Then he continued, "Why you go 'way? I miss you. Gramma and Harry and Ginny and everybody take care of me. Harry is my godfather! He said you made him it. When are you coming back? I miss you," he repeated, then turned around shyly and sat down in Harry's lap.

"Good job, Teddy," said Harry.

"You say something," Teddy requested. "You tell Mummy and Daddy. Ask when they coming back."

Harry had no idea how to tell Teddy that his parents would not be coming back. So instead he called out to Remus and Tonks's gravestone, "Teddy misses you and he wants you to come back soon." Teddy smiled up at his godfather, satisfied.

* * *

 **Godric's Hollow**

 **Potter Cottage  
**

 **10:07 P.M.**

"Teddy seems pretty excited about Christmas," Ginny remarked, crawling into bed next to Harry.

"Yeah," he agreed. After a moment Harry added, "He thinks Remus and Tonks are coming back."

Ginny looked over at him, sensing his distress. "Hey," she said, rolling over and touching his shoulder. He turned his head to face her. "We'll deal with it later, okay?"

He nodded. "Alright."

"Besides, it's Christmas," she said jokingly, reaching for her wand and flicking it in the direction of the lamp on the dresser. The only light in the room disappeared and the room was enveloped in darkness.

* * *

 **December 25, 2000**

 **7:00 A.M.**

"Harry! Harry! Ginny! Ginny!" said Teddy, bouncing into their bedroom. "It's seven-zero-zero! Time to open presents!"

"We should have said eight-zero-zero," Ginny said, her voice cracking. Teddy crawled onto the bed and jumped up and down, trying to wake up Harry and Ginny.

Harry sighed and rolled out of bed. "C'mon, Ginny," he yawned. "We _did_ tell him seven o'clock."

"Fine," she gave in, sitting up.

Somehow Teddy got them to go downstairs with him to the living room, where all presents - the ones to the Weasleys, Teddy, as well as the ones from Harry to Ginny and from Ginny to Harry - sat under the Christmas tree, waiting to be opened.

After looking through everything in his stocking and opening all of his presents from the Potters, Teddy said, "Now breakfast!"

"Slow down," said Ginny. "Do you want some juice for now? We're going to have brunch at the Burrow later."

"Orange juice," said Teddy.

"What do you say. . . ?" Harry hinted.

"Please?" Teddy added.

"Sure," Ginny agreed, standing up and going to the kitchen. She returned with a sippy cup full of orange juice, and before she even held it out to Teddy he took it from her.

After several gulps of the drink, an out-of-breath Teddy said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, sitting down in a chair. "Now, how about that toy broomstick?"

"Oh, so you're the one who gets to teach him how to fly?" Harry challenged.

Ginny paused sarcastically. "Hmm, who's the professional Quidditch player here? Oh, _me!"_

"But who's his godfather?" Harry teased. "Oh, _me!"_

She sighed. "I still think _I_ 'm the one who should teach him."

* * *

 **Ottery St. Catchpole**

 **The Burrow**

 **9:47 A.M.**

"I saw that article in _Witch Weekly,_ and I just do not think they are authorized to say that about your body!" Molly exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Don't worry, I wrote them an anonymous complaint letter -"

"Mum."

"- and I warned them that if they -"

 _"Mum."_

"- write about you and Harry and Ron and Hermione that way again I will cancel all my subscriptions and accuse them of -"

"Mum!" said Ginny. "It's alright."

Molly gasped. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, it is -"

"Potter. My last name is _Potter_ now," Ginny corrected. "And Gwenog finally said it's alright and that it's okay, because maybe the Harpies will get some attention this season. Even if it's from men who aren't right in the head."

"And I don't want that to be because of you! Did you _see_ what they wrote about your body? You haven't even played a match yet and they're already raving about how -"

"Mum, if Ginny's fine then you should be, too," George pitched in as he grabbed a muffin from a platter.

Molly frowned at him, then sighed. "George, it's not about being fine, it's about protecting your reputation and -"

"Ginny's nineteen, Mum," said George, pulling a chair out from the table and sitting down. "She can handle herself just fine without your help."

"I _know_ she can, I just think she needs some guidance -"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Would you two stop talking as though I'm not in the room? George's right, I'm nineteen, I'm perfectly able to 'protect my reputation' without any 'guidance.'"

"You're only nineteen, Ginny," said Molly gently, trying to calm the heated conversation down. "You've just started your first job, and everybody needs a little guidance on their first job."

"Fred and George didn't have 'guidance' on their first job!" Ginny retorted.

"Yes, well, Bill and Charlie and Percy did," Molly said quickly. "And Fred and George didn't really get our approval on their . . . ."

George laughed. "You've sure got that right."

Molly glared at George before saying, "How about we just leave this conversation as it is?" Nobody said anything and the argument was abandoned.

"I'm cold," Teddy whined as he, Ron, and Harry came inside from the snow outside.

"Of course you are!" said Ginny. "Are you ready to eat?"

He nodded, looking jealously at George. "Why _he_ get food and not me?" Teddy demanded.

"I think we're all wondering that," said Ginny, giving George a pointed look.

George rolled his eyes and dropped the muffin wrapper in the trash before bending down to Teddy's level. "That lady right there?" he said, pointing at Molly. "That's my mum. She doesn't like it when I eat muffins when I'm not supposed to, which is why I do it. Now you can get as many muffins as you want, just to annoy Ginny, okay?"

Teddy nodded. "Okay."

"George!" said Ginny.

He laughed. "Well, Harry's obviously not going to try to annoy you, so I thought I should give Teddy that job."

"You're too kind," Ginny sighed, as she watched Teddy grab three muffins from the tray on the table, which was perfectly at his height.

"Hey, Ginny, we're gonna play a game of Quidditch after we eat," Bill called across the room. "Chaser or Seeker?"

"Chaser," she replied. "But I think Teddy'll have to open his other presents first. He's too impatient."

Bill chuckled. "That's alright."

"Actually, I think he's already opened some of his other presents," said Ron from the doorway to the living room.

"What?" said Ginny, hurrying into the over room where all the presents were. Teddy had already torn open one of Bill's presents from Molly and Arthur, a signature Weasley sweater.

Ginny sighed. "GEORGE!"

"What, Ginny?" said George tiredly from the kitchen.

"Teddy just opened some of his presents," she said. "And I wonder who told him to do that . . . ?"

 _"Teddy!"_ Harry called, getting out of the line for food.

"Look what I got!" Teddy squealed, motioning to a Muggle computer that was supposed to be for Arthur. He'd opened about three gifts by then.

George's girlfriend, Angelina, happened to walk through at that moment. Holding back laughter, she offered, "Need help cleaning that up, Harry?"

"Yeah, I think so," sighed Harry, packing the computer back up in its box. "Teddy, do you want to go get some food with Ginny?"

Teddy shook his head. "No!"

"Why not -? Oh," he said, when he found two and a half uneaten muffins under some wrapping paper. "Who let you get some already?"

"George," he answered immediately.

Angelina rolled her eyes. "That prat."

"I heard that!" George called.

She blushed and quickly replaced the gifts Teddy had opened and rewrapped them with her wand. "There," she said. "Maybe next year we should put locks on the gifts."

"Maybe next year _somebody_ won't open other people's presents," said Harry, giving Teddy a pointed look. Teddy giggled and looked up at Harry and Angelina innocently, as though saying, "What, me?"

"Come on, you," said Harry, scooping Teddy up off the ground. "You'll open presents soon enough, just be patient."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed! Chapter 3 is on its way and will be posted as soon as it's finished.**

 **~Sunny**


	3. New Year's Eve

**WARNING: Random character death(s). (Nothing that will hit too close to home, but I thought I should probably give a warning.)**

 **This chapter gets some action going. . . .**

* * *

 **Ministry of Magic**

 **Atrium**

 **Sunday, December 31, 2000**

 **8:34 P.M.**

"Ron, where the hell _were_ you?" Harry demanded. "The 'party' started at 7:30, and you're getting here at 8:30."

"Hermione is refusing to eat or drink anything from this party because it was prepared by house-elves," said Ron exasperatedly. "Is there a spell that dries you off?" He unsuccessfully tried to wring out his robes, only creating a large puddle on the Atrium floor.

"Yeah, er - _Ventus Calidus!"_ said Harry. The water that made Ron's robes sag disappeared into thin air and they were immediately dry.

Ron sighed. "Thanks, mate."

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"She's over there talking to one of her coworkers, Katy Markham or something like that," he answered. "Where's Ginny?"

"You know that really enthusiastic Auror, Shafiq?" said Harry. Ron nodded. "His wife plays with the Harpies. I think she's Seeker or something like that."

"Huh," said Ron. "When's their season start?"

Harry thought for a moment before he replied, "Sometime in early February. I don't know the exact date, I just know that they play against the Cannons."

"Oh, great," sighed Ron. "I can't cheer for my sister on her first Quidditch game."

"Well, you could," said Harry, as Ron took a glass of wine from a silver platter a house-elf was carrying around.

"- always talking about how his master will be poisoned," Harry and Ron heard a house-elf tell the one who had been carrying Ron's wine.

"Could be," the wine-carrier answered gruffly.

"He's not right in the head," the other house-elf said.

"Are any of them?" Ron whispered to Harry, who grinned. "So what'd you and Ginny do today? Or do I want to know?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "We visited Hagrid at Hogwarts this morning to deliver his Christmas present and we ended up staying until three," Harry answered. "Poor bloke wanted us to look through his lesson plans for all his years, he's so anxious. But apparently he's got a good amount of seventh years doing their Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T.s, so he's pleased about that."

"So you showed up?" said Arthur Weasley to Ron, coming over to stand with his son and son-in-law.

Ron sighed. "You know how Hermione is about house-elves and their stupi - I mean, _rights._ She's refusing to eat or drink anything here because the house-elves prepared it, so we ate out before we came."

"And that made you late because . . . ?"

"We'd never been to the restaurant we went to so we didn't know that it would take two hours for them to get us our food," Ron explained. "But at least they gave it to us free because we had to wait so long."

"Speaking of Hermione, here she comes," said Harry.

"So I see you figured out how to dry your robes?" said Hermione, folding her arms across her chest.

Ron nodded. "It was easy. I see you did, too?"

"Clearly," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me how?" he asked.

"Well, it was a bit funny seeing you drag your wet robes around everywhere," she admitted. "I see you've already gotten a drink?" He shrugged and took another sip, looking around the Atrium.

It was a long tradition of the Ministry of Magic to host a New Year's Eve party and to invite all patrons and employees. Every year the Atrium was unrecognizably transformed into a fancy ballroom by house-elves. After they served the small Hogwarts Christmas feast, the Hogwarts house-elves began preparing for the Ministry's party. When they finished the food, they came over to the Ministry and began decorating the Atrium for the famous and popular event.

A magnificent crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling above where dancing was supposed to take place. (Nobody did much dancing there, mostly just talking.) Large tables full of all kinds of food surrounded the fountain in the center; this was where most people were currently. Kingsley's favorite wizarding band, the Weird Sisters, performed on a magically elevated stage, surrounding the guests with music of all genres.

"Where's Mum?" Ron said, looking around and using his height to his advantage.

Arthur peered around as well. "I'm not sure. I think she was talking to Percy's girlfriend over there -"

" _Percy_ has a _girlfriend?"_ Ron spluttered, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. "Are we talking about the same Percy? _The_ Percy Ignatius Weasley with those weird glasses?"

"Er, yeah," said Arthur, suddenly realizing he'd probably said too much. "He hasn't tell you?"

Ron shook his head. "No."

"Can't imagine why," said Hermione sarcastically. She turned to Arthur and asked, "How long have they been together?"

"I'm not quite sure," he admitted. "He told us a little bit before Christmas. Her name is Audrey Hendersen."

"Muggle-born?" asked Hermione, not recognizing Hendersen as a pure-blood last name.

"Muggle, actually," Arthur said enthusiastically. "She's quite interesting, she said she works in something called accountancy. Have you heard of that profession?"

"I have, actually," said Hermione seriously, though it was clear to Harry and Ron that she found this conversation quite amusing. "Accountancy was the industry my grandfather worked in until he retired - well, died. I only know the basic idea of it and some tasks you complete in that business because my grandfather often complained about them."

Arthur nodded. "Ah. When she explained it it did sound a bit dull."

"I don't know if 'dull' is the word I would use, but . . ." said Hermione, her voice trailing off. "Is that George and Angelina over there?"

Harry, Ron, and Arthur looked in the direction she was looking in. "Blimey, it is," Ron remarked.

"Oh, yeah," said Harry. "He said something to me on Christmas about being invited to this. I'd completely forgotten."

"Probably a patron or something now that they're not printing wanted posters with Harry's face on them," Arthur said. "I hope he hasn't just snuck in to test one of his new products . . .I'm going to go check and make sure. See you three later?"

They nodded as he went off to talk to George. "Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked Harry.

"She was talking to the Harpies' Seeker," said Harry. "Her husband works in the Auror office, too. Except he's an actual certified Auror, not just a trainee."

"Oh," said Hermione. "I thought she -"

"Master," said a house-elf's voice. "Master, don't touch anything."

"Who said that?" demanded Ron, looking around his feet for the house-elf who had spoken. "He's probably the nutter those others were talking about."

Hermione frowned at him. "Don't call him a 'nutter,' you've never even seen him!"

"I've heard about him," said Ron. "And I trust my hearing just as much as I trust my sight."

She rolled her eyes as a house-elf came up to Harry and offered him wine. "Sure," Harry said. "Thank you." The elf nodded in acknowledgement and tottered off dazedly.

"MASTER!" the house-elf screamed. By now everyone at the party was quiet, listening to what the creature said. "MASTER, DON'T DRINK THAT!"

 _"Kreacher?"_ Ginny gasped.

The crowd parted to reveal Kreacher and Ginny, who both hurried over to Harry. "Master will be poisoned!" Kreacher grumbled.

"What?" said Harry, looking around. Everyone was still staring at him, giving the three of them attention they did not want. "Poisoned?"

"Your drink," Kreacher croaked, his voice hoarse from yelling. "Poisoned."

"Give me your glass, Harry," said Hermione, holding out her hand. "I'll check."

"You're not going to drink it, are you?" asked Ron worriedly.

"Of course not," she said. "I'm just going to perform a spell to see if it really is poisoned. It's better than finding out the hard way."

It was completely silent all around the Atrium as Harry handed Hermione his glass. "If it glows green, it's poisoned," she said to Harry, Ron, and Ginny, but everyone heard. "If it glows red, it's not."

"Got it," said Ginny.

 _"Potonis Revelio!"_ Hermione said. The glass in her hand gave off a bright green light. "I guess it is poisoned."

Kingsley and Courtney broke through the crowd to the scene, as did Molly, Arthur, George, and Angelina. "Potter, that's your elf?" said Kingsley, recognizing Kreacher from when Grimmauld Place had been the Order headquarters.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "But he usually works in the kitchens at Hogwarts."

He nodded. "Ah. So who poisoned Harry's cup, Kreacher?"

"Buddy," Kreacher grumbled. "Buddy the house-elf."

"Why would a house-elf poison Harry's glass?" demanded Courtney. "I don't think house-elves really have feelings or emotions, so how would they hate Potter enough to try to poison him?"

"Excuse me?" said Hermione angrily. " _All_ house-elves have feelings and emotions, but you clearly don't!"

Courtney was about to retort but George said, "Buddy's _my_ house-elf. He works at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes with us."

"Then what's he doing here and why did he poison Harry?" Courtney said.

"We sent him here to help prepare when we got the Ministry leaflet asking if people could 'donate' their house-elves to help prepare for tonight," Angelina explained. "And I've no idea why he would poison Harry, Buddy has nothing against him."

"Imperius Curse," Kreacher muttered. "Buddy's under the Imperius Curse."

"Yes, well, that's not helping us at all," snapped Courtney, "because we don't know _who_ put the stupid house-elf under the Imperius Curse."

Before Hermione could explode at Courtney again, Ron said, "How thick are you? Knowing that the house-elf was - _is_ \- under the Imperius Curse makes all the difference. George, how about you summon Buddy right now? Maybe we can get some of his memories and see who put him under the Imperius Curse."

"We can't do that," said Courtney quickly. "He wouldn't have memories if he was under the Imperius Curse, would he?"

Hermione rolled her eyes - it was obvious Courtney was not growing on her. "Of course Buddy would have memories! I think we should definitely check them out, Ron's idea is great."

"Courtney, can you go fine Buddy?" Kingsley requested.

"Sure," Courtney said, but she didn't leave without giving a very audible _humph_.

"Whoa, Hermione," said Harry, grinning. "I didn't know you had an attitude like that."

She managed a smile as Ron said, "She only unleashes it against people she doesn't li -" At Hermione's glare, he corrected himself by saying, "- sorry, _isn't fond of_." She sighed but didn't object.

Everyone at the party continued what they'd been doing except for the people at the crime scene, who conversed nervously with each other. A woman's scream made everyone silent yet again.

"Who was that?" said Ginny slowly, turning in circles to see if she could locate the screamer.

Kingsley raised his voice and said, "Everybody stay calm! We will get this taken care of!"

"HE'S DEAD!" the woman screamed again.

Another lady chimed in, "THERE'S A DEAD HOUSE-ELF ON MY LEG!"

"Everybody stay calm!" Kingsley repeated loudly, but is shout was drowned because chaos broke out.

People screamed and rushed towards the doors. Even the Weird Sisters abandoned their instruments and jumped down from the stage, fleeing for the exits. Kingsley opened his mouth to stop them, but stopped when he realized the situation was hopeless. Only the Aurors and their dates, the body of the man who'd died and his wife, the dead house-elf, Kreacher, the Weasleys, Kingsley, and the Minister stayed.

"Courtney!" Kingsley yelled.

No answer.

"Courtney!"

Still no answer.

"She must've left, too," he muttered as they all hurried over to the new crime scene, forgetting about Kreacher.

"It's Buddy!" Angelina gasped, as George gently lifted the lifeless house-elf off the ground. "He's the dead house-elf!"

"Yeah, that's definitely the one that gave me the wine," said Harry quickly, hoping not to worsen the situation.

"Hello? Excuse me?" said the woman who'd screamed first (the other one had fled with the crowd). Her voice was high-pitched, matching her small frame. "My husband just died over here!"

"Sorry, ma'am," said Kingsley sincerely.

"What's your name?" Arthur asked.

She held her nose high. "My name is Melinda Burke, and this here -" She nudged her husband's shoulder with the toe of her high heels. "- is Thomas Burke. We are full supporters of the Ministry and its doings, and we came because we are longtime patrons." Mrs. Burke glared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, making the three of them assume she was a bitter woman and definitely did not support them during the Second War.

"Longtime patrons, eh?" said Ron.

She gave him a particularly nasty look. "Yes, Mr. Weasley. Longtime patrons. Longer than you've been alive," she added proudly. "Cornelius Fudge awarded Thomas an Order of Merlin, First Class over the summer of 1995 for his Services to the Ministry. We were very honored and have increased our donation of five thousand Galleons every year to ten thousand Galleons a year." Ron didn't say anything, but the look on his face mirrored hers of pure disgust.

"Alright," said Hermione brightly. "Er . . .what should we do, Kingsley?"

Mrs. Burke cleared her throat. "Ehem? I'm a witness, aren't I? I should tell my side of the story, shouldn't I, Ms. Granger?"

"Please," said Hermione, waving her hand for Mrs. Burke to begin. "Go ahead."

She cleared her throat again before she began. "Thomas and I had just resumed our lovely talk with another couple after the poisoned wine fiasco when a flash of green light shot under my legs and hit Thomas. He fell backwards and here we are."

"Here we are," Hermione echoed. "Thank you, Mrs. Burke. I know tonight must be very hard for you."

"Shafiq," said Kingsley, "would you please escort Mrs. Burke to my office and give her a RP?"

Grey's husband nodded. "Please come with me, Mrs. Burke." Mrs. Burke nodded curtly and followed him away.

"What's a RP?" Ginny whispered to Harry.

"A Relief Package," Harry answered softly. "But I've no idea what's in it just that it's given to people who are somehow connected to Auror missions. I think Kingsley's hinting that all of this has turned into a case." Ginny nodded in understanding.

"What time is it?" Kingsley asked.

A random Auror replied, "8:54, sir."

"Thank you," said Kingsley. "Now, I need volunteers to take Mr. Burke here to St. Mungo's so they can see where he was hit."

Hermione gasped suddenly, interrupting Kingsley's monologue. "I'm sorry, Kingsley, but can I - er - do something?"

"As long as it is not illegal, feel free," Kingsley responded.

She walked over to Mr. Burke's body and squatted down. "George," she said, "can you put Buddy down where he was when you picked him up?" George nodded and cautiously lowered the house-elf down to the ground. Hermione held out her arm and pointed at Buddy from where she was. Still holding her arm out, she stood and took a few steps backwards. "I knew it!" she exclaimed.

"Knew . . .what?" asked Ron, coming over to stand with his wife.

"Whoever killed Buddy and Mr. Burke was standing right around here," she explained, motioning to her feet. "Buddy and Mr. Burke were both standing in the exact same direction. Whoever it was must've been firing under everybody's legs and accidentally hit Mr. Burke before they hit their target, Buddy."

"But why would they want to kill Buddy?" demanded Angelina.

"So that we wouldn't be able to get his memories," Kingsley finished.

"It was either Courtney or somebody else," said Hermione.

"I doubt it was Courtney," said an Auror named Yousef.

"And why do you think that?" George challenged.

Yousef shrugged. "Doesn't seem the type. She's not emotionally strong enough to harm another person."

"That may be true, but you didn't see her and how opposed she was to looking at Buddy's memories," George pointed out.

Harry nodded. "I think you're on to something, George."

"We'll have to ask Mrs. Burke if she saw anybody bending down," said Hermione. "Or if she saw a head lower down. We may be able to get some clues on who it is."

"Kreacher needs to clean," Kreacher mumbled, looking around at all the food and drinks that had been knocked over in the crowd's rush to exit.

"It can wait," said Ginny. "Kreacher, how did you know Buddy was under the Imperius Curse?"

"Heard some elves talkin'," Kreacher replied gruffly.

"Speaking of the little devils - I mean, house-elves - where are they?" said Ron.

No one answered.

"Maybe they'll come back when they see the mess and want to clean," Harry suggested. "Like Kreacher."

They stood in a stressed silence until Shafiq and Mrs. Burke returned, her clutching a plastic bag at her side. "Well?" she said. "Any ideas?"

"We've got some," said Harry.

"Any that are set in stone?" Mrs. Burke demanded.

"Not yet," Hermione chimed in. "But some of them are very reasonable, we just need a few more clues. Do you remember seeing the top of anyone's head, as in somebody crouching down."

"If I did, I would have told you," she said, annoyed. "I've told you everything I know."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. We just wanted to make sure."

"Now, if it is okay with you, of course," said Kingsley, speaking to Mrs. Burke, "we would like to take Mr. Burke to St. Mungo's to see where he was hit."

Mrs. Burke sighed. "If you must. Where will I go?"

"You can go with him, you can return to your home, you can do what you wish," Kingsley answered. "But in order to discover who murdered your husband and the house-elf we must have his body examined."

"Oh, why does it matter where he was hit by the Killing Curse?" she said. "He was killed all the same, wasn't he? He is actually a normal wizard and did not _survive_ the Killing Curse." Harry could tell that this jab was directed towards him, but instead of letting her get to him, he ignored it.

Kingsley did as well. "Volunteers to take Mr. Burke to the hospital?"

A few men and women raised their hands. "Alright . . .Timothies, Johnston, and Octopeia, you three," Kingsley said, pointing to two men and one woman. They came forward and held Mr. Burke - Timothies had his right arm, Johnston his left leg, and Octopeia his right leg - and were about to Disapparate when Hermione said, "Wait!"

"What, Ms. Granger?" demanded Mrs. Burke tiredly.

Finally Hermione just couldn't stand the grumpy woman anymore. "You _obviously_ do not seem very concerned about your husband's murder, so WE are in your place!" she said angrily. "You have no interest - no BUSINESS - in this case and what we are trying to do! Mrs. Burke, you have absolutely no reason to criticize anything I do because I am doing it to benefit you, not myself!"

For a moment, nobody said anything as Mrs. Burke and Hermione glared at each other. "Fine then," Mrs. Burke said expressionlessly. "Do what you need to do, don't let me interrupt."

"I won't," Hermione snapped. Then she cooled down just as quickly as she had heated up. "I'm going to mark the spot where Mr. Burke lays, just so we can use it as a reference."

"Sounds good," Kingsley agreed.

Hermione muttered an incantation and a red _X_ appeared underneath where Mr. Burke laid. "There. Now you can go," she said to the Aurors holding Mr. Burke. They nodded and Disapparated on the spot.

"I'm going home," Mrs. Burke announced, Disapparating with a _pop!_ as well.

"Everyone is dismissed," called Kingsley. "But I want all Aurors here on Tuesday at five o'clock sharp. Including trainees. We're going to have to examine the evidence before everybody starts to get here at seven-thirty."

The small band of people broke apart. Before they could leave, Kingsley went over to George and Angelina. "I really am sorry about Buddy," he said sincerely. "Would you mind if he was examined as well? It'll help us try to solve this. . .drama."

George nodded solemnly. "Of course. We'll go right now." He took Angelina's hand and as everyone else had, they Disapparated to St. Mungo's.

"Oh my God," said Hermione, rubbing her temples with her hand. "This is such a mess!"

"The Aurors will get it taken care of," Ron assured her, though he wasn't so sure himself.

* * *

 **I'm sorry this took me longer than usual. I had the majority of it written a couple of days ago, but then there was New Year's, a basketball game, a trip to the Emergency Room, and a lot of other stuff that got in the way. Thank you for your patience!**

 **Oh, and by the way, the spell "Ventus Calidus" that Harry uses to dry Ron's robes in the beginning means "hot wind" in Latin. I'm a first year Latin student and I'm already able to see when J.K. Rowling uses Latin in her spells and in the characters' names (e.g., "lupus" means "wolf", hence Remus _Lupin_ ), so I thought I could sneak in my own "Latin trick" in. Just a little fun fact. ;)**

 **Thank you guys for reading, and Happy [belated] New Year's! 2016's gonna be a great year!**

 **~Sunny**


	4. Mysteries at the Ministry

**WARNING: Character death (again). But you barely know he/she/it, so I don't think it's too personal.**

* * *

 **Ministry of Magic**

 **Auror Office**

 **Tuesday, January 2, 2001**

 **2:17 P.M.**

"What time does the game start?" asked Ron for the third time that day.

Harry sighed, accidentally showing his annoyance. "It's at 2:30, that's why I'm trying to finish solving this line." He motioned to the Ancient Runes on the table and the pen and notepad lying next to them. The notepad had three words written on it: _I am in._ The last two words in the sentence could not be deciphered – at least, not by Harry."I can't believe Kingsley said Hermione can't translate them for us. We're only trainees, it's not like we're cracking the most important case in the Auror office."

"That's no way to be thinking, Potter," called Courtney brightly from her desk. "'Course it's important. Why else would we give it to you?"

"I don't know, maybe because we're on our third year of training, so we're almost certified, and there's nothing else for us to do since we can't shadow all the other Aurors because they're working on some super-secret, super-complicated case that we're not allowed to know about?" said Harry tiredly, turning the page in the _Rune Dictionary._

Courtney rolled her eyes when Harry and Ron turned away from her. "Do you know how much research I had to put into those damn Runes? I spent the past six months finding and putting those together, don't waste my effort."

"Six months?" Ron repeated. "Blimey, you do more work than I thought you did. I thought you were just the secretary."

"Nobody's ever 'just a secretary,' Weasley," said Courtney seriously.

Harry stood up, defeated, and closed the dictionary. "I give up. I'll finish it tomorrow, I want to go to my wife's exhibition game now." Waving his wand, Harry levitated the book to its shelf and the manila folder of Runes back over to Courtney's desk. "You coming, Ron?"

"Give a man a second!" said Ron, as he manually returned the notepad and pen to Courtney.

"The Harpies' exhibition game?" Courtney asked Harry, who nodded. "I was gonna go, but the Minister wouldn't let me off. Oh, well. Maybe I'll get to go to their game against the Cannons."

"You're a Harpies fan?" Ron said as he and Harry hurried towards the fireplace.

She shrugged. "I guess you could say that." Neither Harry nor Ron had time to reply, though, because they had already disappeared through the Floo Network.

Ron stepped out of the fireplace after Harry. "So. . .where are we? I just followed you."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," said Harry. "Getting up at 4:30 this morning has got my brain all foggy. This is the Dynasty Training –"

"'Dynasty'? Why 'Dynasty'?" said Ron.

"I dunno, maybe the Dynasty family were donors –"

"Excuse me?"

Harry and Ron turned to the dark-skinned woman behind the desk in front of them. "Sorry?" said Harry.

"I was just wondering why you two _men_ were here?" she questioned.

"Oh, er, I'm – well, _we're_ – here to get tickets," Harry explained.

"Sir, the ticket booth is at the stadium. This is the Training Center, no men allowed unless they have permission. . .no offense, of course, it's just for our players' privacy," said the lady.

Ron glanced at Harry and said, "Well, I'm Ron Weasley, this is Harry Potter, and apparently his wife reserved tickets for the Harpies' exhibition game this afternoon. So I think we might have permission."

The woman smiled. "Oh! Is the name under 'Potter' or 'Weasley'?"

"Potter," Harry answered.

"Ah, yes," she said, opening a file cabinet underneath her desk, and pulling out two tickets. "Level 1, Section 3, Row B, Seats 1 and 2." She handed them to Ron, who quickly pocketed them, before she outstretched her hand. "I'm Bobbi, by the way. The Harpies' receptionist."

Ron, then Harry, shook Bobbi's hand. "Nice to meet you," said Harry. "So how do we get to the stadium?"

"See that door?" she said, pointing down the hall. "Those are the stairs. Go down to the first floor – not the basement, mind you – and go through the doors in the lobby to the outside. You should be able to see the stadium's entrance, it's right across from the lower entrance here. When you enter the stadium, turn right until you see a sign that says 'Section 3,' then go into that entrance. You'll probably be able to find your seats from there if you've got any brains at all, and I think you do." Bobbi winked at them, referring to their defeat of Voldemort.

"Alright, thank you," said Harry.

"And you might want to hurry, it's supposed to start right at 2:30!" Bobbi called after them as they ran to the doors she had directed them to.

"Doesn't she go to the games, too?" Ron muttered to Harry as they sprinted down the steps.

Between his panting, Harry replied, "Yeah, probably. But this is just an exhibition game."

They finally reached the ground floor and followed Bobbi's instructions when they arrived at the Dynasty Stadium, easily reaching their seats.

"These are good seats," Ron remarked.

"Apparently no press is allowed in Section 1," said Harry, looking around at all the people decked out in their Harpies gear, most commonly the family member's jersey who they had come to see play.

"I feel like an oddball, sitting here without a t-shirt on," said Ron.

"Don't say that or you'll make _me_ feel like one," Harry said.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the annual Holyhead Harpies Exhibition Game!" the commentator boomed through the stadium. "Today we will be watching the team scrimmage against each other on two teams. So without further ado, let's welcome the Green Team! Chasers Delilah Gerrup, Estela Gardener, and Gemma Stoneson! Beaters Gianna Thomas and Harpies' Captain Gwenog Jones! Keeper Gennifer Kamari! And. . .Seeker Giselle Bennett!" The people behind Harry and Ron cheered when their player's name was announced and as they flew onto the field.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron whispered to Harry.

He shrugged. "She must be on the other team."

Sure enough, once all the members of the Green Team had flown onto the field, the announcer said, "And now for the Gold Team! Chasers Alice Garret, Ginny Potter, and Ivy Gauge! Beaters Gianna Thomas and Hannah Galilea! Keeper Michaela Goskey! And. . .Seeker Grey Shafiq!" The commentator paused as the Gold Team filled into their positions across from the Green Team. "Today's referees are Cyprian Youdle and Maurice Bloorgan!"

Youdle waved good-naturedly to the crowd while Bloorgan held the Snitch tight in her hand. Youdle shouted, "Let the game begin!"

Ginny and Gemma Stoneson came forward from their respective teams. Bloorgan released the Snitch as Youdle threw the Quaffle into the air. Ginny raced forward, grabbed the Quaffle from the air and sped off.

Fuming, Gemma chased after her and continuously jammed into her, trying to knock her off her broom. "Cobbing!" shouted Ron, standing up. "That's cobbing right there! And it's just an exhibition game!"

Ginny flew downward, throwing Gemma off. Ginny turned around and gave her a small grin as she flew back up and easily threw the Quaffle past the Green Team's Keeper, Gennifer Kamari. "That's ten for the Gold Team!" announced the commentator.

"That _was_ a nice goal," said Ron, clapping while Harry cheered loudly next to him.

The Chasers _did_ get dirty (even though they were really on the same team) during the game, but the referee waved them off. "They're just having a bit of fun!" Youdle called cheerily to Bloorgan after Gemma violently blatched Ivy Gauge, a Chaser on the Gold Team.

"Stoneson's got an attitude, doesn't she?" Ron whispered to Harry, somewhat amused by the woman's violence towards her own teammates.

Harry nodded. "She's not very fond of Ginny. They have a rivalry since Gweong upgraded Ginny to center Chaser and downgraded her to left Chaser. I don't know why she's so upset, though, it's not like she's a reserve. She still starts."

"Women," said Ron, shaking his head.

The game ended when Grey Shafiq barely snatched the Snitch away from Giselle Bennett. The final score flashed all around the packed stadium: 100-270 GOLD TEAM WINS!

Both teams returned to the ground, lined up, and shook hands jokingly. But for Gemma, it wasn't a joke. When she reached Ginny she purposefully nudged her, causing Ginny to spin around angrily and say, _"Somebody's_ a sore loser."

Delilah Gerrup and Estela Gardener restrained Gemma from fighting back. "You little –!"

"Whoa!" said Gweong, pushing Ginny and Gemma apart as Youdle and Bloorgan rushed over. "What's happening over here?!"

"Potter here provoked me," said Gemma furiously.

"Because you pushed me," Ginny added.

Gwenog rolled her eyes. "You two sound like two-year-olds. Potter, come with me. Stoneson, see me after review, alright?" Gwenog grabbed Ginny's arm and dragged her off the field.

"What happened there?" Harry asked Ron, clearly confused. Both of them had not been able to hear what had happened on the field.

"No idea," Ron answered. "Looks like they got into a fight."

"But it's just an exhibition game!" Harry sighed.

* * *

 **4:02 P.M.**

"What was that about, Potter?" Gwenog demanded when they reached her office in the stadium.

"Gemma's an arse with anger issues, that's what that was about," Ginny said heatedly.

Gwenog hesitated. "Look, that show-down you two just had? Terrible for publicity. And sure, I'll tell you a billion times I don't care about how popular our team is and that I just want us to win, but the owners will tell you otherwise. They're just trying to make money. Trust me, bad sportsmanship – especially within the team – does not attract fans."

"Well, I don't care about the owners' success. All I care about is playing," said Ginny, folding her arms across her chest.

"That's what I like to hear," said Gwenog, " _unless_ it's a matter of money and promotion. And that's what this is, and I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep my job because the paycheck's pretty good."

Ginny snorted. "Trust me, you've got nothing to worry about."

" _You_ do," she pointed out. "You're one of the best Chasers the Harpies have had in a long time. Probably the best of my time here. But now it seems like you've got anger issues or something – that's the rubbish the _Prophet_ or _Witch Weekly_ 's going to make up about you, because that's what they said about me when I was a rookie and got in a fight with Dai Llewellyn – and that's either going to really hurt or really help the Harpies' publicity."

"What about that _Witch Weekly_ article? Isn't that going to attract desperate men or something?" suggested Ginny. "That'll balance out whatever bad thing the _Prophet_ says about me, won't it?"

Gwenog shrugged. "Possibly. I don't know what they're going to say about you. They'll probably criticize your husband for marrying such a wild woman."

"I am not _wild_ –"

"I don't think you are," said Gwenog. "I'm just making something up. I don't want them to say that, because then there will be even _more_ desperate men at our games, thinking how sexy it is that you're 'wild.' We've already got enough of those creepy-stalker wizard fans who try to break into the locker rooms. We'll get more with you. It could make money, but it'll give us, the Harpies, a reputation we don't want or need."

"I don't mean to be rude, but _I don't care_ ," said Ginny, standing up from her chair across from the Captain's desk. "Like I said, all I want to do is play Quidditch."

She sighed. "But you can't 'just play Quidditch,' Potter. Quidditch is a team sport, right? So if two members of a team don't get along, how can they get along and play together when they're going against other teams?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm not a two-year-old, Gwenog. I know that it's either going to hurt or help the Harpies franchise. I know that it's terrible for business if the team's two starting Chasers aren't getting along. But it'll work out before the game against the Cannons. We've got over a month."

"We've got thirty-nine days," Gwenog corrected. "And if you two can't fix whatever's up between you, then I'm going to have to demote one or both of you."

"God, it just started literally ten or fifteen minutes ago and you're already threatening my position? You've _got_ to be kidding me," Ginny said. "Gemma and I haven't even had time to 'fix whatever's up between us.' I don't even _know_ what's up between us!"

Gwenog hesitated. "You do know, Potter. It's because I gave you her former position as center Chaser. Now she's the left one. Don't ask me why it matters so much to her. I don't even know why she stayed with us after gave out positions. If she was so angry, she could have gone to another team that is in desperate need of a Chaser – like the Cannons."

"Has she played on other teams before?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," Gwenog answered. "Stoneson started out with the Catapults. Then she quit with them because she said she wasn't getting paid enough, so I recruited her. And now she's all pissed off about being 'demoted' even though she has nothing to complain about. Gardener's a reserve now and I haven't heard one complaint come out of her mouth. Dunno why she's that way, but I really wish Gemma was, too."

"I don't know," Ginny sighed, sitting back down. "This whole thing's a big confusing mess about jealousy and physicality. I have no idea where I stand in it and why she's so ticked off at me. So you should be asking her about everything, not me. Why _did_ you talk to me first?"

"You're the rookie," she shrugged. "I thought I should give you a stern talking to. Besides, I already trust you more than I trust Stoneson."

Ginny grinned. "'S that a compliment?"

Gwenog smiled back. "Yeah, Potter, I think it is."

* * *

 **Ministry of Magic**

 **Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures**

 **Being Division**

 **2:44 P.M.**

"– it was miserable," Hermione sighed. "George and Angelina's house-elf died – oh, and a man by the name of Thomas Burke did as well. But his wife didn't seem to hardly care. Actually, I think I was more upset than she was."

Kayla McMarcus, Hermione's coworker, (not Katy Markham, which was what Ron thought was her name) rolled her eyes. "Oh, pure-blood marriages. Why marry people for a higher class in society instead of who you actually want to spend the rest of your life with?" Kayla said.

Hermione nodded. "I know, it's just stupid. Anyway, eventually I just couldn't stay calm and let it all out at her. I could tell she didn't support us during the war just by the way she looked at us with disgust. She seemed like a very unpleasant person."

"That's why I don't work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Kayla seriously, taking a bite of a cookie she'd brought to work as a snack. "I've got a friend from Hogwarts who works there, she said that pure-bloods always come in trying to make laws against Muggles or Muggle-borns. I can't stand it when people discriminate against us. People like you and me are even more magical than they are. I just don't get it!"

Kayla was a middle-aged witch with wavy brown hair that was always pulled back in a ponytail. Her simple sense of style – normally just a nice blouse and formal skirt – made her quite unnoticeable to the average person. However, she stood out in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures with her strong opinions and popular solutions to pending problems and issues.

"Yeah, I'd probably work there," said Hermione, "if it wasn't for the stupid pure-bloods. I can stand 'blood traitors' since they don't brag – well, of course I can, I married one – about their lineage – well, I probably know more about Ron's than he does – as much, if they do at all."

She nodded, taking a sip from her mug of butterbeer she had gotten in the break room. "See, that's –"

But what it was, Hermione never got to know.

* * *

 **Godric's Hollow**

 **Potter Cottage**

 **5:06 P.M.**

"I'm home!" Ginny called as she stepped out of the fireplace. She was startled to find Ron sitting on the couch in the living room. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too," Ron snorted and put down the Quidditch magazine he had been reading. "I'm here because I went to your game and want to know what that postgame fight was about."

She rolled her eyes. "Gwenog says that Stoneson's jealous of me, but I think she's just a sore loser who has anger issues. Where's Harry?"

"A sore loser with anger issues, eh? That's not a very kind opinion of your own teammate," Ron remarked.

"Where's Harry?" she repeated.

He sighed. "He's upstairs in your bedroom taking a shower. And by the way, you had a nice performance out there."

"It was just an exhibition game," said Ginny, shaking off the compliment. "It makes no difference. Gwenog would've been pissed if a starter got hurt in an exhibition game – she actually asked that we not play to our full abilities."

"Are you really that good?" said Ron, surprised by his own sister's abilities.

Ginny grinned. "Actually, I ignored her. But I really appreciate your trust in my talent," she added sarcastically.

" _Ron!"_ hissed a voice.

Ron looked around, both of them recognizing Hermione's voice but not knowing where it was coming from. Ginny, meanwhile, rolled her eyes at her brother and pointed at the fireplace. "She's right there, stupid," said Ginny, heading upstairs.

Sure enough, Hermione's head sat in the fireplace. "My _God,_ this is uncomfortable!" said Hermione, wincing. "I'm going to say this quickly, I've got to get back to Kayla's room."

"What's happened?" Ron asked.

"I was talking with her this afternoon when she took a sip of butterbeer that apparently had five drops of the Death-Cap Draught which apparently causes a slow and painful death but I didn't know that so when she started choking and coughing I didn't know what was happening which was really stupid because I SHOULD have recognized the symptoms but I didn't and so now it's all my fault that she's dying!" said Hermione quickly.

"I'm sure it's not your fault that she – are we talking about Katy? – is dying," said Ron, not knowing what he should do as he had never been in a situation quite like this one.

"Her name is Katy. _Anyway_ , I'll be late tonight, maybe nine o'clock or so," said Hermione, disregarding her husband's attempted words of comfort. "Possibly later," she added. "And why aren't you at home, you said you were coming straight home after Ginny's game?"

Ron shook his head. "There was a feud at the game, I wanted to hear Ginny's point-of-view and opinion of it," he explained.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, at least leave a note next time!" she urged. "I've got to go now, I'll see you later."

Before he could say anything else, she was gone.

* * *

 **St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries**

 **Third Floor – Potions and Plant Poisoning**

 **8:37 P.M.**

"We have investigated the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures' break room," said a gruff looking Auror to a Healer by the name of Scout Higgins in Kayla's private hospital room. "Traces of the Death-Cap Draught have been located; however, the criminal was not careless, leaving no DNA behind for our recognition. We have identified every speck of DNA as welcome in the Ministry."

Hermione, who was sitting anxiously in a chair by the window, piped up, "Which means whoever is was is part of the Ministry."

The Auror eyed her, his eyebrows raised. "It is not polite to eavesdrop on confidential conversations, Ms. Granger," he said.

"Actually, this is not a confidential conversation, as you are telling a Healer in the room or Ms. McMarcus here. As a matter of fact, I thought I would be of use to you," said Hermione. "After all, I _was_ the only witness of her death."

He didn't speak for a moment. "Very well, then. You're the one who suggested being interrogated. When Ms. McMarcus – _passes,_ we will escort you to the Auror Office."

"Can I not just go there myself? I work in the Ministry, and my husband and best friend are Auror trainees," said Hermione angrily. "I am perfectly able to 'escort' myself there."

"It is traditional protocol for us to escort our witnesses to our office, Ms. Granger," said the Auror tiredly. "We know you can walk."

She was tired. No, _exhausted._ And grumpy. And she had not been planning on being at the hospital, watching her coworker die slowly and painfully. So Hermione could not help but retort, "Most of the witnesses you have for crimes have committed some sort of crime in the past. However, my record is completely clean, so I think you can trust me. And I _know_ I can walk, thank you for telling me, though."

The Auror didn't hesitate to say, "Come with me, Ms. Granger. I think we're going to have your interrogation a bit sooner than usual."

With one last glance at Kayla, Hermione left the room. Her stomach turned regretfully as she realized that was the last time she would see her friend alive.

* * *

 **Godric's Hollow**

 **Potter Cottage**

 **5:42 P.M.**

"You're staying for dinner, aren't you?" said Ginny, poking her head into the living room where Harry and Ron sat.

Ron glanced at Harry. "If that's alright with you."

She shrugged. "It's not a big deal. We always have extras, so I guess it's fine." Ginny headed back into the kitchen.

"So you said that Hermione's coworker's butterbeer was spiked with drops of the Death-Cap Draught?" Harry said.

"Five drops of it, yeah," said Ron. "Though I dunno why it makes a difference. . . ."

"Hey, Ginny?" Harry called.

"Yeah?"

"Where are all of our books from Hogwarts?"

"In the attic."

Harry stood up, motioning for Ron to do the same. "Come on. You were wondering why five drops of the Death-Cap Draught made a difference."

"Where are we going?" asked Ron cautiously, standing up as Harry had beckoned him to.

"Just the attic," Harry assured him. "The answer should be in one of our old potions books. Problem is, I dunno which one."

* * *

 **Ministry of Magic**

 **Auror Office**

 **8:43 P.M.**

"We've got our first suspect of the murder," said the Auror who had escorted Hermione back to the Ministry.

The Chief Auror, Joshua Henderson, nodded but looked surprised. "Hermione Granger?" he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "To be honest, sir, I'm just as confused as you are. I'm a witness, not a suspect, but _somebody_ here –" She gave the grumpier Auror a pointed look. "– seems to think otherwise."

Henderson looked up at the other Auror. "Simpson, you can leave the room."

When the door shut, Henderson said, "Alright, let's get this over with. I'm exhausted and just want to go home like everyone else. I'm gonna ask you three questions and then you're free to leave. First question: what were you doing when Kayla McMarcus. . .er, _coughed."_

"We were sitting in her office, talking about pure-bloods and the whole New Year's fiasco," Hermione answered promptly. "Then she took a sip of butterbeer and the rest is history."

He nodded. "Alright, second question: how long have you know Ms. McMarcus?"

"Since I began working at the Ministry right after I graduated from Hogwarts, so about a year and a half."

"Alright, and last question: why were you in Ms. McMarcus's office when she died?"

"I was in Kayla's office because she had a question for me about a report that I am working on. We got a bit off topic, and then. . . ."

"Alright, thank you, Ms. Granger," said Henderson. "You're free to go home now."

"Thank you," she said, hurrying out of the room.

* * *

 **Godric's Hollow**

 **Potter Cottage**

 **6:13 P.M.**

"Oh, this is _useless_ ," sighed Ron, tossing another potions book back into a box. "We're never going to be able to find anything."

"Sure we will," said Harry, faking positivity as he opened _Moste Potente Potions._ There was no table of contents, leaving him to flip through every one of the six hundred pages of the book to find the Death-Cap Draught.

Ron came over and peeked over his friend's shoulder. "Those potions aren't even in alphabetical order, and you have no idea what page it's on. How the hell are you going to find the Death-Cap Draught? What if it's not even in there?"

"It's got to be. . .I remember Ginny owled me in her seventh year about how complicated the potion was. . .this was their only potions textbook," said Harry, everything coming back to him.

"Then why didn't we look in this bloody book first?" Ron demanded.

"It was at the bottom of the pile, I'd completely forgotten," said Harry.

"Hey, you two! Dinner's ready!" Ginny called up the stairs.

"Got it!" Harry called back. "Be there in a second! It's got to be in here somewhere. . . ."

Ron shook his head. "You sure you're not thinking of, I don't know, the 'Draught of Death' or something like that? Because I'm pretty sure the Death-Cap Draught and the Draught of Death are two completely different things."

"I'm sure, you can go through those letters Ginny wrote me in that crate over there," said Harry, pointing to a large crate full of inky parchment on a shelf.

"I'd rather not," said Ron, muttering something about how he "thought Hermione wrote essays, but Ginny wrote Harry _books_."

Three hundred pages and fifteen minutes later, Ginny yelled again, "Are you two coming or not?!"

"Sorry!" said Harry. "We got a bit caught up."

There was a pause, a _pop!_ from downstairs, then an even louder _POP!_ in the attic as Ginny Apparated to the dark room. "Caught up doing what? Reading?" she said, looking at Harry and Ron, who both sat against the wall looking at _Moste Potente Potions_ open on the floor between the two of them.

"Your dinner's going to be cold, then," she remarked, folding her arms across her chest. "Can't your reading wait? Why even _are_ you reading?"

"One of Hermione's coworkers died this afternoon because her butterbeer had five drops of the Death-Cap Draught in it," Harry explained quickly. "We're trying to figure why five drops makes a difference."

"She didn't tell you why?" said Ginny, raising her eyebrows. Ron shook his head. "It was on our N.E.W.T. exam. The number of drops of the Death-Cap Draught one takes changes its result."

"Really?" said Harry. "Then what does five drops do?"

Ginny shut her eyes tightly, trying to remember. "Well, the potion itself only makes seven drops," she said slowly, opening her eyes. "If someone takes all seven drops, they die over two days. Apparently it's really painful. If someone takes one drop, they die immediately." She closed her eyes again. "With two they die in exactly thirty minutes. Three, they die within an hour. With four they die in three hours. With five, they die in six hours. Six, one day."

"So five drops means the person poisoned dies a slow and painful death over the course of six hours," Harry repeated.

"Oh, Hermione said _that!"_ said Ron.

Harry laughed. "So we've wasted forty-five minutes looking for something you knew already?"

"Well, she didn't say how long it took for five drops to kill someone," Ron said. "She just said the thing about a slow and painful death."

"Whatever," said Ginny. "Anyway, it's a very complicated potion. Whoever brewed it must've been really committed to killing Hermione's coworker. It takes two months to make. Now will you two _please_ come down for dinner? I haven't eaten since breakfast."

"Blimey, Ginny," said Ron, levitating _Moste Potente Potions_ back into the box it had come from. _"Why?_ I don't think I'd be able to survive."

"I'm barely hanging on to life here, Ron, because you two wouldn't come down the damn stairs!" said Ginny.

"Is she always this grumpy?" Ron whispered to Harry, who laughed. "What did you _do_ to her?!"

Ginny glared daggers at both of them. "Come _on,_ you slowpokes! I'm hungry!"

* * *

 **St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries**

 **Third Floor – Potions and Plant Poisoning**

 **8:52 P.M.**

"She passed eight minutes ago," said Healer Scout Higgins sadly. "Her father has been notified of her sudden death by Healers, but they did not explain that she was poisoned. Instead they said she was in a car accident. Apparently her father is making arrangements for a small funeral as we speak, but I don't know why any offices would be open. Anyway, we'll have to Obliviate him of the whole incident of course, and that he ever had a daughter." Hermione just nodded, too exhausted to say anything. "Are you okay, Ms. Granger?"

She shook her head. "No, I –" She yawned. "– I think I'm going to go home. Thank you for what you did tonight, and –"

Healer Higgins patted her back comfortingly. "Go on, sweetie. You're tired, you deserve some rest."

Hermione nodded slowly as Higgins gently pushed her out the door. She Flooed home, and didn't even realize her husband was not home as she crawled into bed. Right before she dozed off, however, a furious tapping on the window above her bed brought her to her senses. She pushed the curtains aside a bit and looked out the window to find a Ministry owl staring back at her. Reluctantly, Hermione opened the window and allowed the owl inside, also sending a whoosh of cold air into the room. Her teeth chattered as she untied the letter, stamped with the Ministry emblem. When she unrolled it, her tired eyes were barely able to stay open as she read:

 _Dear Ms. Hermione Jean Granger,_

 _In light of recent events, the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Mr. Amos Joseph Johnston and other authorities in the Ministry of Magic and the department have made the decision to promote you to Director of Awareness of Magical Beings._

 _Please report to Conference Room 401 at 10:00 A.M. tomorrow, Wednesday, January 3, 2001 so you can officially accept your new position and to discuss the new endeavors you will take on as the Director of Awareness for your chosen division._

 _Thank you._

She sighed and managed to drop the letter on her bedside table before her head hit the pillow, asleep.

* * *

 **Godric's Hollow**

 **Potter Cottage**

 **10:43 P.M.**

"– and then she said, 'I can't believe you did that!'" Ron said. He and Harry both roared with laughter.

"Will you two keep it down?!" Ginny demanded loudly from hers and Harry's bedroom upstairs.

"Sorry, Ginny!" Harry called. "What time is it?"

Ron glanced at his watch. "Fifteen till."

"Till ten?"

He shook his head. "Eleven."

" _Eleven?"_ Harry repeated. "It's already eleven and Hermione hasn't come here demanding why you're here and not at home?"

"'Parrently," said Ron, shrugging. Harry raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure she's fine. She's probably just staying at work late or something, she stayed until three one morning. Actually, one time she fell asleep in the office, I brought her breakfast the next morning on my way to training –"

"Ron, _her boss died this afternoon._ I don't think she's 'fine'," said Harry concernedly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course she is. Harry, this is _Hermione_ we're talking about. When has she _not_ been fine?"

"I can think of a few times," Harry pointed out.

"Well, those during the war don't count. Whether she's fine or not," said Ron, changing the subject, "I should still probably be getting home."

"I should probably be getting in bed," Harry consented. " _But_ I'm pretty sure Ginny brought home elfish wine a few nights ago. . . ."

"Oh, thank God," said Ron. "You know Hermione and how she is about stupid elves. . .she'd never let me even touch a bottle of that."

Harry grinned. "Then let's hope she's not going to come looking for you."

* * *

 **Sorry for the slow update! Three weeks. . .I'm a terrible person. I'll try to be faster next time.** **This was a longer chapter than usual, but I hope this will become the "norm" in future chapters.**

 **Also, would you all rather me a) update as soon as I finish [as I've been doing] or b) have me update, say, the Thursday after I finish the chapter? Oh, and would you like previews to the next chapters, hints, anything. . . ? Please let me know - not everything's about me.**

 **Questions, comments, and concerns are welcome! Thank you all for your support of "Breakaway" (and me)!**

 **~Sunny**


	5. Quidditch and Runes

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own _Harry Potter._**

* * *

 **Ministry of Magic**

 **Conference Room 401**

 **Wednesday, January 3, 2001**

 **10:09 A.M.**

"I'm sorry I'm late!" said Hermione the moment she opened the door to the conference room.

Amos Johnston, Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, raised his eyebrows, a bit amused. "That's quite alright, Ms. Granger. Your being late will not make my colleagues and I change out decision, though I would advise you to be on time to any other interview you have in your career."

She nodded and took a seat across from him. To her surprise, nobody else was in the room, just her and the head of her department. Mr. Johnston chuckled at her astonishment. "I didn't think you would need multiple people to explain what your promotion meant."

Again, Hermione nodded. "So I'm Director of Awareness of Magical Beings?" she said. "What does that mean for me?"

"For one, you'll have nine people reporting to you," Mr. Johnston began. "You were formerly making 700 Galleons. Your wage goes up by 5% after every promotion, so that is. . . ."

"735 Galleons," Hermione finished.

"Correct, thank you," said Mr. Johnston. "Anyway, you will be responsible for monitoring everyone's wages and work in your office. You will also have to work with the Directors of Awareness in the Beast and Spirit Divisions for the 'Magical Creatures Awareness' event in April, but that's in April. What am I forgetting. . . ?" He shuffled the papers in front of him. "Ah, yes. One of the most important things. You will assign 'work', which is reports and squads, to all who report to you. _You_ will report to the Head of the Being Division, Mrs. Flaka Dripp. And. . .I think that's it! Any questions?"

She shook her head. "No, sir."

"Alright then!" he said. "I guess I'll show you to your office. Oh, wait, I'm forgetting the whole reason you're being promoted! The nine people who work for you haven't been officially notified that their former boss, Kayla McMarcus, was poisoned and died yesterday. We have left that business to you, since you were the one who actually witnessed it."

"Great," she muttered, following him to her new office.

* * *

 **Auror Office**

 **1:34 P.M.**

"This is taking too bloody long," Ron complained, slamming the _Rune Dictionary_ shut. "I don't care where the hell this bloke is in. 'S not like we're going to be the ones to go after him, even if we do somehow figure out what this damn symbol means. Oh, why can't Hermione help us?!"

"Frustrated, Weasley?" said a deep voice from behind the desk Ron and Harry huddled over. The Minister of Magic smiled down at the two Auror trainees.

Ron's ears turned red. "Yeah, a bit."

"I take it the case isn't coming along as well as we hoped it would be?" Kingsley assumed.

"Did you think it would go well?" Ron said under his breath.

"Definitely not, sir," Harry said, shaking his head. "We've got three words out of these five thousand characters."

"They need a professional, Minister!" pitched in Courtney from her desk. (She had obviously been eavesdropping on the conversation.)

Kingsley thought for a moment, before suggesting, "I think, since you asked earlier, it would be appropriate for Ms. Granger to translate the runes. Of course, that is only if she consents to, and if she does, she will have to apply for an Auror License."

" _License?"_ Ron repeated. "But I thought that's what we were training for . . . ? How does she get one if she hasn't even trained?!"

Harry laughed at his best mate's astonished face. "No, we're training for Auror certification. Auror Licenses are awarded to a person so they have permission to work on an Auror case . . . is that right, Kinglsey?"

"Precisely," Kingsley agreed. "Seems like Mr. Weasley here needs to look back on his 'Auror Code' class notes."

"I think he burned them," said Harry seriously, while Kingsley chuckled. "So Ron, can you ask Hermione if she can translate the runes?"

"'Course I can. Does this mean we don't have to finish translating the runes?" Ron asked excitedly.

Kingsley chuckled. "For now, and only if Ms. Granger agrees to finish translating them. If she does –"

"– which she will," Harry added.

"– then Courtney and I will find something else for you two to do until Ms. Granger has finished translating them," Kingsley explained. "For the rest of the day, though, I want you two to finish translating as much as you can. Every little word counts."

"Thanks, Kingsley," Harry said graciously, while Ron reluctantly turned back to the runes.

* * *

 **Ottery St. Catchpole**

 **The Burrow**

 **Sunday, January 7, 2001**

 **11:23 A.M.**

"Hi, Harry," said George, not looking up from his and Bill's very intense game of wizard's chess. "Knight to C3."

"Hi, George. Bill," said Harry, stepping out of the fireplace. "'S Ginny here yet?"

Bill shook his head. "Bishop to E4."

Harry frowned. "Hermione?"

"Nope," said George, contemplating his next move.

"Ron?"

"Uh-uh," said Bill, smiling up at George. "Gotcha trapped!"

George looked at Bill and grinned. "So you think! Rook to D5!"

"Aw, dammit," said Bill, glaring at the board then George's triumphant face.

"WILLIAM WEASLEY!" Molly barked from the kitchen. "THERE IS A CHILD IN THE HOUSE!"

Bill rolled his eyes. "The one child in the house is _my_ daughter who isn't even a year old, Mum. I think it's alright."

"Teddy's going to be here any second, and I do _not_ want him repeating your language," said Molly sharply, poking her head out of the kitchen into the living room. "This is a child-friendly home." Bill just shrugged.

"Oh, hello, Harry!" Molly said, waving at him. "Where are Ginny and Teddy?"

"Er. . ." He looked around for the Weasley clock (which now included the Weasley children's spouses' names as well as Molly and Arthur's one grandchild's name). Ginny's name now pointed at "Traveling." "She's on her way," he answered finally, stepping out of the way of the fireplace just in time, as Ginny and Teddy appeared and stood right where he had previously.

"Harry!" Teddy exclaimed, hugging his godfather's leg.

"Hi, Teddy," Harry laughed.

Teddy giggled. "I no see you _forever!"_

"You're right, it's been a while," Harry agreed seriously.

"Hullo, Teddy," said George, actually looking away from the game and waving at his brother-in-law's godson.

The turquoise-haired two-year-old waved shyly. "Hi, Georgie."

George rolled his eyes. "I still can't believe Ginny taught you to call me that. My name is George _,_ Teddy, _George._ Not 'Georgie.'"

"Hi, Teddy," said Bill. Unlike George, he still stared at the pieces on the board and bit his lip, cautiously saying, "Knight to A7."

"Hello to you two, too," said Ginny sarcastically, snorting at her brothers' ignorance.

Bill looked up and grinned at his sister. "Oh, hey Ginny. Didn't see you there."

"'Course you didn't," she muttered.

"God, Ginny, what's –?" George began.

"GEORGE! _DON'T_ SAY THAT IN THIS HOUSE!" Molly said. "And hello, Ginny – Teddy."

"Oh, alright. _Gosh,_ Ginny, what's –?"

"DON'T SAY ANYTHING, GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY, OR I'M GOING TO USE SOME OF YOUR OWN PRODUCTS ON YOU!" Molly said angrily.

George sighed. "My, gosh – _goodness_ , sorry." Teddy giggled again, earning George a sharp glare from his mother. "Mum, calm down – just a few 'bad words' – honestly, I don't understand why they're 'bad' at all, but of course, by all means, if this is a 'child-friendly home,' then I'd never dare to disrupt the peace . . . ."

"What were you going to say, George?" said Ginny persistently.

"Oh, yeah. I was going to ask what's gotten into you, you've been like a female devil –"

" _GEORGE!"_

"Right, sorry. You've been like a female . . . er, fiend – there, Mum, happy? – the past few times I've seen you, and I dunno why," George remarked. "Are you . . . er . . . ?"

Ginny snorted. "That's very kind of you to say. I love you, too, dear brother," she said. "But no way am I pregnant, trust me."

"I'm going to take your word for it," said George, wincing as he realized how Ginny knew. "Maybe I've just seen you when it's your time of month . . . yeah, that's probably what . . . ."

"Well, aren't you just a ball of sunshine?" she said. "Thanks for announcing that to everyone."

Motherly instincts on alert, Molly quickly felt the need to step in. "Ginny, would you help me with lunch?"

"Sure," she said grudgingly. "Where's Hermione?"

"They're not here yet, actually," said Molly, but she didn't give it much thought.

And it turned out she did not need to, because five minutes later Ron and Hermione both stepped out of the fire.

Bill and George didn't even acknowledge their brother and sister-in-law's arrival, for they were both too into their game to say hello. Only Molly's call of "Lunch's served!" could tear them away from their very meaningful matched that truly mattered to the well-being of the world.

"So what have you all been up to?" Hermione said as she began to dig into her plateful of food.

"Well," Ginny began, "I was suffering from George's incorrect inferences that I'm pregnant –"

"Way, why da 'ell would 'e fink dat?" said Ron through his mouthful of food.

" _No,"_ Bill and George groaned in unison, looking at each other then at Molly, who was beginning to fume.

"FOR THE THIRD TIME, THIS IS A CHILD-FRIENDLY HOME! I WILL _NOT_ TOLERATE LANGUAGE SUCH AS THAT OR THE LANGUAGE THAT HAS BEEN USED TO DAY IN MY HOME FROM THIS DAY FORTH AS LONG AS THERE IS AN UNDER-EIGHTEEN UNDER THE ROOF! NO _SWEARING,_ NO GOSHES OR GODS OR SUGGESTIVE OR IMPLICATIVE COMMENTS! THIS GOES FOR ALL OF YOU! Oh, sorry, Angelina dear, was that your toe I stepped on?" She now stood, looking pointedly at each of the over-eighteens in the room.

There was a long silence, then Fleur suggested, "'Ow about we change what the topic? 'Ow is Percy and why is 'e not 'ere, per'aps?"

"Percy is actually visiting his girlfriend's family at the moment," said Arthur slowly, wiping his mouth on a napkin as Molly sat down next to him again.

" _Percy has a girlfriend?!"_ said Bill. "And you all aren't teasing him about it?"

George shrugged. "No time. I've got a business to run, if you haven't noticed. Harry and Ron 've got training. Ginny's got conditioning. Hermione's too nice to tease anyone," he said simply.

"Actually," said Ron, and Hermione glared at him, "she wouldn't have time to, seeing as she's been promoted to Director of Awareness of Magical Beings."

"Really?" said Harry.

Hermione blushed. "Well, yes, but it's not that big of a deal . . . just a bit of a higher pay, that's all . . . not that much of a difference, I have the same hours and same coworkers, I'm in the same department, the same office – well, office _area_ , I have a new desk, but it's not –"

"Don't try to wave it off, Hermione," said Ginny, grinning. "You've been promoted! It's something to celebrate!"

"This was because of the McMarcus thing, right?" said Harry, his encouraging smile fading.

"That's why she hates it so much," Ron answered.

"'She' is in this room, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "But yes, that is why I hate it so much . . . if I had been able to think faster, if I had been able to –"

"Hermione, it's not your fault," Ron assured her, turning to his wife. "You didn't know what to do; how would you?"

"Sorry," said George, "but what the hell – _I mean_ , what are we talking about? I lost track."

The conversation stopped immediately. "Nothing," said Ron quickly, Hermione's icy look preventing him from explaining Kayla McMarcus's murder. George raised his eyebrows but wasn't persistent – he was able to occasionally restrain his curiosity when it came to sympathizing other people's emotions.

No other words were spoken until everyone had finished lunch and Bill said, "Er . . . who's up for a game of Quidditch? I'll be Keeper?"

"Seeker," said Harry.

"Keeper," said Ron.

"Chaser," said Ginny.

"Chaser," Angelina repeated for herself.

"Er . . . I'm guessing we're not gonna have Beaters?" George asked. Bill shook his head. "Oh, dammit, now I'll –"

"GEORGE!"

"Sorry, Mum . . . _oh, no_ , now I'll have to be Seeker," sighed George. "Well, you're on Harry."

Molly frowned. "You all aren't going to go out until we've finished the dishes, understand?"

"Mum, we're not kids anymore," Ron complained.

"I can do them," said Hermione quickly. "You all can go Quidditching or whatever you call it and I'll clean the dishes."

Ginny grinned, standing up before she pushed her chair in. "Thanks, Hermione. I call the Nimbus!"

"Oh, no you don't!" said George immediately, getting up from the table.

"Try me," Ginny challenged, and the two of them raced out the kitchen door to the broom shed.

"You know, Ron," said Molly, staring at the opened door, "you're wrong. I think you all still are kids – except for Harry and Hermione, of course."

Harry and Hermione chuckled, while Ron glared at his mother. "We're not _that_ immature – well, Ginny and George may be, but –" he protested.

"You're right, you all are _very_ immature," she amended teasingly. He rolled his eyes while Harry and Hermione guffawed.

"Whatever," Ron mumbled.

* * *

 **12:03 P.M.**

"– but I honestly don't understand why they'd publish something like that about the four of you in such a widely-read magazine," Molly continued ranting to Hermione, who only replied with the occasional nod, 'Mm-hmm,' or 'Yeah.' "But I think it could be rather good for the Harpies' publicity. Even if it does mean advertising Ginny's body. Oh, speaking of which –" She plopped a plate into the sink full of soapy water. "– Arthur and I bought season tickets for the family to go to all of the Harpies' home games. Their first one's against the Cannons, I thought Ron would like to go to that game."

Hermione smiled while she scrubbed the remains of food off a knife. "Yeah, you thought right. But you'll have to keep him away from the others – he'll probably be cheering for the Cannons, not Ginny."

Molly chuckled. "He's never been known to be completely supportive of her endeavors," she agreed.

"Yeah, the only reason he was interested in the Harpies' exhibition game was so he could get out of training," Hermione commented. "Apparently they've been given a stand-still case. And since they're the only other Aurors in their class they only have two different opinions. It's a bit sad, really. I'd hate having _only_ Harry and Ron's perspectives to live with."

"That's what you used to have, dear," said Molly amusedly.

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "For a while, I guess," she said. "But I never real thought about it. They weren't too bad back then."

Molly laughed again. "I'm not sure you were saying that 'back then.'"

"I doubt I was. But I am now!" she added.

* * *

 **1:15 P.M.**

"George, or Harry, or _somebody,_ will you please find the Snitch already?!" Angelina demanded from her perch on her broom as she moved the Quaffle around, trying to prevent Ginny from stealing it. "This is getting old!"

"You know, we could just call it off," Ron called.

"No!" said Ginny. "That'd be the first time in the _history_ of Quidditch that a game has ended without somebody catching the Snitch!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "In recorded history. A backyard Quidditch game isn't going to be in the books, I don't think."

"It's going to be in my ashamed memory—" said George, one hand over his heart and the other on the top of his Nimbus (there had turned out to be two Nimbuses, so he and Ginny both got one).

"—because you didn't get to catch the Snitch, and I did?" Harry continued teasingly.

"It's on, Potter!" said George.

Ron sighed. " _And_ the game's back on."

* * *

 **3:09 P.M.**

"—and then guess what happened, Teddy?" said Ron enthusiastically as he told the story of Gryffindor's Quidditch Cup victory from his fifth year.

"WIN!" Teddy giggled.

Harry grinned. "Now what've you taught him, Ron? The basic rules of Quidditch?"

"Nearly," said Hermione, looking up from Molly's living room copy of _Witch Weekly,_ which she had been reading. "At least, all the rules that affect Keepers. But you left out three."

Ron shrugged. "No one cares about the other three anyway."

"You don't know what they are, do you?" said Hermione with a smile.

"And you do?" said Ron.

She beamed. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Said the woman who doesn't even play Quidditch and has no apparent interest in it," Harry chimed in, plopping down on the couch next to his godson.

"I do have a bit of interest in it, just not in actually playing it. The theory and history of the game is actually quite fascinating, but I don't suppose either of you have even bothered trying to read anything about it," she said pointedly.

Ron shrugged. "I've got better things to do."

"Like go to my Quidditch games," grumbled Ginny, arms folded across her chest as she walked in from the kitchen.

"Oh, you heard about that?" said Hermione brightly.

Ginny frowned. "Yeah, Mum just told me. When did you?"

"While you all were outside playing Quidditch," she replied. "I think it's neat, I don't understand why you're so upset."

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said George, also coming into the room. "She's embarrassed that Ron's a Cannons fan, that's why she's so upset. I'd be, too – actually, I _am._ "

Ron rolled his eyes. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Actually, last year they ended with a winning season!"

"By one game, yeah," said George amusedly, sitting down on the sofa next to his youngest brother. "Incredible. First time in twenty years. But Ginny's bound to do better than that."

To prevent George and Ron from arguing about the Cannons, Harry loudly asked Hermione, "Have you started translating the runes yet?"

"Runes?" she said confusedly. "What runes?"

"Ron didn't tell you?" Harry said.

"I didn't tell who what?" Ron said, turning away from George and joining Harry and Hermione's conversation.

"The runes . . . ?" Harry prompted.

Ron continued to be confused but after a moment quickly caught on to what he was hinting. "Oh! I thought I told you, Hermione!" Ron said.

"You probably imagined telling her but actually didn't," Harry suggested. "Anyway, Ron and I have been assigned a case by Kingsley that was gathered by Courtney and part of it involves translating Ancient Runes. We're rubbish at it, so we've asked Kingsley a few times and he's finally agreed that you can—if you want to—translate them instead of us."

"Only if you want to," Ron added.

Hermione thought for a moment. "So I do all your work for you while you two get paid to talk in the office all day?"

"Isn't that what you've _always_ done for them?" Ginny asked, overhearing a snippet of their conversation.

"Yeah, it is," Harry agreed, chuckling. "But no, that's not what we're going to do. Kinglsey's already given us a temporary task that will save the professional Aurors time, but we're not allowed to talk about it."

"You'll have to get and Auror License, too," Ron pitched in.

"An Auror License," Hermione repeated, and without hesitation, agreed, "I'll do it."

"Oh, great. Thanks, Hermione," said Ron graciously. "The runes are at home in the library."

"Runes?" called Ginny. _"You_ are working on Ancient Runes? Of all people, you'd be the person I'd least expect—"

Ron shook his head. "No, I'm not. Hermione is. I did work on them, though. But I'm glad you think so much of me," he said, rolling his eyes.

* * *

 **Here's the preview of Chapter 6 that "Guest" asked for last chapter:  
**

 _ **"I am perfectly able to fight you if that's what you want," said Ginny sweetly.**_

 _ **"Well, it's not," said a voice behind her.**_

 **Also, a special thanks to BeetheSecond, CupcakesandShenanigans, FardSkim, GFJoker, JeanAndBilius, KellyAnn96, Kpiscrazy, LifeIsSweeterThanFiction, Litwinter, Momo Spock, OliWest, Sarcasmisinmyblood, alleyCaesar, chemrunner57, chiconline, ginnyandharry's love, jaanaaa, maire 53, pottermum, purereader, rupertslover09, rweasley500, swford56, and triggbc for adding this story to your alerts!**

 **A** ** _very_** **special thanks to BeetheSecond, HersheySara, JeanAndBilius, Kpiscrazy, LifeIsSweeterThanFiction, Sarcasmisinmyblood, Stinkyx3, dhassall, gracefish21, and m16m203 for adding this story to your favorites list!**

 **And an EXTRA special thanks to gracefish21, JeanAndBilius, scrappy8 (guest), Guest, pottermum, FardSkim, and Stinkyx3 for your reviews!**

 **Sorry I haven't updated in about a month. It's been on my mind, but I've been really, really busy and had a lot of stresses lately. Spring break is almost here, though, so you'll probably get at least one update over that break. :)**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **~Sunny**


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